


Through the letterbox.

by 17shadesofbryony



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-01
Updated: 2013-06-01
Packaged: 2017-12-13 16:40:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/826479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/17shadesofbryony/pseuds/17shadesofbryony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Irene turns up at 221B and asks Sherlock for some help...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through the letterbox.

**Author's Note:**

> This is just something I wrote just after watching Scandal for the millionth time....

**_"Mr Holmes," the woman shouted through the letter box of 221, "Open the god damned door."_**  
  
   
  
Sherlock frowned at the voice echoing down the hallway, and began to walk to the door. Upon opening he found a cold, wet and miserable looking Irene. _"What do you want?"_ he asked, seeming irritated by her presence. She looked nothing like he remembered, her long hair pulled up into a now soaking messy bun. Rain soaked jeans, thick jumper, shirt and coat. Big boots that were seemingly waterproof. She looked so unlike the immaculate and powerful dominatrix that filled his mind.  
  
She snapped up at him, _"It's raining, I'm soaking wet and cold."_ she moaned, stepping into the hallway of 221 and shed her coat onto the floor making a small rain puddle that she toed her boots off in. _"And I need somewhere to stay."_ she muttered, looking up at Sherlock bleakly. Before turning suddenly and running up the stairs to 221B, Sherlock followed her up and stood in the doorway to the living room as she stood shivering by the fire.  
  
 _"Well done of stating the blindingly obvious a minute ago."_ Sherlock smirked, " _Who's after you this time?"_ he rolled his eyes and sat down in his armchair. Just as he hit the seat, Irene began to undress. Stripping naked right before him, it wasn't like he hadn't seen it before but he growled in frustration and turned his attention to his phone.  
  
His head quirked up to the sound of her saying his name, _"Sherlock dear, it isn't like you haven't seen it all before."_ she laughed and he watched her walk over to his purple shirt that was sat discarded on the desk and pulled it on. He rolled his eyes in frustration at the woman as she sat herself in John's armchair opposite him and tucked her long legs elegantly underneath her. _"No one of importance."_ she muttered, watching the fire.  
  
Sherlock replied to her previous statement with a short, _"Doesn't mean I want to see it again."_ and carried on trying on his phone, trying to get Lestrade to give him a case and frowning at the fact The woman was sitting naked opposite him in his flat.  
  
Sherlock looked up and found Irene watching him like before except he was holding his phone and not plucking at his violin strings, locked away in his mind palace. _"Where's John?"_ she piped up.  
  
Sherlock huffed, hating small talk but answered her anyway, turning his attention back to his phone. _"In Hastings or wherever visiting his sister...who's still drinking."_ he added frowning, getting increasingly more angry at Lestrade and his refusal to give him a case, completely ignoring the woman.  
  
 _"Lesbian sister, isn't it?"_ she asked, _"And do tell Greg I said hello."_ Irene smiled, watching him but more focused on his long fingers that were moving across the keyboard of the phone but were now frozen. He looked up and frowned at her, watching her smile grow smug as he frowned at her,  
  
 _"How do you know his name?"_ he asked, watching her intently.  
  
 _"He's the inspector that told me about the hiker with the bashed in head. I know what he likes, and apparently that's being bitten and called a 'dirty bastard'"_ She smirked at him. He felt anger bubble up and frustration at the detective's weakness.  
  
 _"Oh, for God's sake..."_ he murmured irritably and turned back to the small screen of the phone. He was beginning to get irritated by Irene's presence, as much as he hated to admit it though, he rather liked the look of her in his shirt.  
  
Irene laughed loudly and watched the now irritated Sherlock with fascination. _"Seeing as you haven't bothered to ask, I'll make it myself. Tea?"_ she asked.  
  
  _"Yes."_ he said shortly, deciding to ignore her again, and pulled John's laptop on his knees.  
  
  Irene stood to leave and decided to humor Sherlock, so as she passed them, she bent over to pick up her wet clothes, the shirt riding up her back. She knew he wasn't interested but it made him uncomfortable. Stood in the kitchen making tea she began to think over her feelings for Sherlock, sentiment, as he referred to it as.  
  
His gaze flickered up for a moment, then immediately back. He couldn't start thinking about her, she was so complicated and muddled up his head. She had her own room in the mind palace for goodness sake, she could destroy his mind and reduce his thinking ability to that of a slug and at that he turned back to his phone, trying to focus on his e-mails.  
Irene returned shortly after with tea and handed Sherlock his cup, murmuring a short "Thanks."  
 _"What's the case?"_ Irene smiled sweetly at his thanking.  
 _"Serial killer, dull but the only one in weeks."_ he muttered.  
 _"Wonderful. You must be bored then, Mr Holmes."_ she smirked up at him over her cup before sipping.  
 _"I'll survive."_ Sherlock said shortly, annoyed by her smirk.  
 _"Hardly."_ she muttered, _"Maybe I can help."_  
Sherlock looked up at her, _"I'm perfectly fine without your help, Miss Adler."_ he sneered, partly annoyed that he so very much wanted her to help.  
  
At this reply Irene whined, _"I'm bored, Sherlock."_  
 _"I don't exactly care."_ he murmured, frowning at the laptop.  
  
At this Irene lept up, she was annoyed and stood in front of Sherlock. Taking away the laptop, placing it on the floor and sitting herself across his lap, legs hanging over the arm and stared up into his eyes, smirking slightly. He had reached for the laptop, but dropped his hand. Leaning back in his chair to be further away from her and looked down at her,  
 _"I'd appreciate it if you got off me, Miss Adler."_   he growled.  
 _"Why?"_ she asked, trailing her hand down his neck to the buttons of his shirt. _"Your body seems to say otherwise."_ she smirked, he knew she'd caught his pulse whilst touching his neck.  
Sherlock grabbed her wrist and pulled it from his neck, " _Because I asked you to."_ he said firmly, ignoring her later statement because he knew it was true.  
 _"Please."_ Irene whispered, peeking up through her lashes before leaning her head against his chest, _"I miss human closeness."_ she muttered, her voice slightly chocked.  
 _"Irene."_ Sherlock said sharply, but frowned at her voice catching, _"Get off."_ he asked more gentle this time.  
  
 _"Please."_ she whispered, her voice strained from keeping tears at bay. He had opened his mouth to reply but closed it at her tone and decided not to push her away but wrapped an arm around her, comforting was what he was aiming for.  
 _"Thank you,"_ she whispered into his shirt, _"As you've already deduced I'm still riddled with sentiment."_ she sighed deeply and Sherlock stroked her hip gently.  
 _"It wasn't exactly difficult,"_ he muttered into her hair, _"Seems we've both been caught up by death."_  
 _"I'm sorry."_ Irene whispered and a small tear ran down her cheek, she moved to stand but Sherlock's arms tightened around her.  
  
 _"It's fine."_ Sherlock whispered, looking down at her and one hand lifted to her cheek and stroked it gently, "I _'m sorry, for kidding myself for so long."_ Irene smiled shyly up at him but also seemed confused,  
  
 _ **"You are THE woman, my woman. The one woman that caught my attention." and at that Sherlock leaned down and placed a feather light kiss on her lips.**_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much x


End file.
